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Updated: May 1, 2025
The warm September day had vanished into a soft, balmy night, garnished by a full, silvery moon. The road to Baretti's was light as day and the nine girls, clad in delicate-hued summer frocks, added to the pale beauty of the night. They were in high spirits, as the incessant murmur of their voices, punctuated by frequent ripples of light laughter, amply testified.
'Johnson was in his rusty brown and his black worsteds, and Gibbon in a suit of flowered velvet, with a bag and sword. His mouth, mellifluous as Plato's, was a round hole, nearly in the centre of his visage. Random Records, i. 121. Samuel Sharp's Letters from Italy were published in 1766. See ante, ii. 57, note 2, for Baretti's reply to them. It may be observed, that Mr.
Entering the quaint, stately restaurant, the Lookouts stopped to pay courteous respects to Guiseppe Baretti, the proud proprietor, a small, somber-eyed Italian. Their frequent patronage of Baretti's during their freshman year had made them very welcome guests. Signor Baretti's solemn face became wreathed with smiles as he greeted them. "It is certainly good to be here again!" exclaimed Jerry.
We must try hard to impress my freshman cousin. Do telephone Ronny, Lucy, Muriel and Vera to come over. You can run 'em over in your car, Leila, in a jiffy." "Many thanks for Vera's and my invitation. We can't accept, for we have a luncheon engagement at Baretti's with two seniors. I must be hurrying along or I'll be late. I'll send the girls back in my car. Any of them can drive it."
"Why did the Sans turn from Baretti's to the Colonial?" Lucy asked tersely. Her analytic mind had not for an instant lost sight of Vera's earlier remark concerning the proprietor. "What happened?" "Oh, it took a large number of straws to break the camel's back. When it broke " "Bing!" obligingly supplied Jerry. "I can picture the wrath of an outraged Baretti."
Muriel made this announcement with a tantalizing smile. "I would know you anywhere," contradicted Jerry. "I'll bet you a dinner at Baretti's that I'll walk up to you after the grand march and say 'Hello, Muriel." "I'll bet you you don't," was Muriel's confident reply. "This dance has put a large crimp in basket ball," Ronny suddenly observed. "It seems to be at a standstill.
In Baretti's Review, which he published in Italy, under the title of Frusta Letteraria , it is observed, that Dr. Robertson the historian had formed his style upon that of Il celebre Samuele Johnson. My friend himself was of that opinion; for he once said to me, in a pleasant humour, 'Sir, if Robertson's style be faulty, he owes it to me; that is, having too many words, and those too big ones .
"Just tell her to subside, a la Leslie Cairns," suggested Helen. "What a shame that I missed that lovely party row at Baretti's. I heard echoes of it on the campus for a week afterward. Let me tell you, I admire Ronny for the way she wound up that tale the Sans started against Marjorie last March. It was the best thing that could have been done." "Something had to be done."
It had hardly died away when the stentorian order "Unmask!" was shouted out by a junior through a megaphone. "Here's where Muriel wins that dinner at Baretti's," declared Jerry ruefully. "I certainly did not walk up to her and say, 'Hello, Muriel. Wonder where she is? I haven't the least idea what her costume is." "For the sake of old Ireland!" called Leila, pointing.
The Lookouts' plan to entertain their friends at either Baretti's or the Colonial on their first evening at Hamilton was over-ruled by Leila and Vera. Thus Vera and Leila gained their point and were in high glee over it. Privately they were glad to have the Lookouts to themselves for the evening, with the addition only of Katherine and Helen.
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